Last Laugh  

‘Twas the month after Christmas,

And all through the house,

Nothing would fit me, not even a blouse.

The cookies I’d nibbled, the eggnog I’d taste

At the holiday parties had gone to my waist.

When I got on the scales there arose such a number, when I walked to the store(less a walk than a lumber),

I remember the marvelous meals I prepared;

The gravies and sauces and beef nicely rare,

The wine and the rum balls, the bread and the cheese

And the way I should say, “No thank you, please.”

As I dressed myself in my husband’s old shirt,

And prepared once again to do battle with dirt,

I said to myself, as only I can

“You can’t spend a winter disguised as a man!”

So, away with the last of the sour cream dip,

Get rid of the fruit cake, every cracker and chip.

Every last bit of food that I like must be banished

Until all the additional ounces have vanished.

I won’t have a cookie, not even a lick.

I’ll chew on only a long celery stick.

I won’t have hot biscuits, or corn bread, or pie.

I’ll munch on a carrot and quietly cry.

I’m hungry, I’m lonesome, and life is a bore.

But isn’t that what January is for?

Unable to giggle, no longer a riot.

Happy New Year to all

And to all a good diet!

Source:  Author Unknown